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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25822168">The Orgy (off-camera)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/freydient/pseuds/freydient'>freydient</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>What We Do in the Shadows (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Cunnilingus, Dubious Consent, Episode: s01e09 The Orgy, F/F, Femdermo, Femslash, Fuck Or Die, Gender or Sex Swap, Genderbending, Loss of Virginity, Protective Nandor, Smut, Virginity is a Social Construct, content warning: dubious consent, dubcon, it's get eaten out or get eaten alive babey!!, once again, possessive nandor, slight exhibitionism</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:02:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,304</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25822168</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/freydient/pseuds/freydient</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After Jeremy is taken off the menu, the orgy guests notice they have one other option. If they can get to her in time.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Fem!Guillermo de la Cruz/Fem!Nandor the Relentless, Guillermo de la Cruz/Nandor the Relentless</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Oh boy!! It’s the first Femdermo fic on AO3! And it’s absolute filth! (I mean, did we really expect anything less?)</p><p>CONTENT WARNING: DUBCON (Dubious Consent)<br/>This ended up a bit more ~dubious~ than expected... It’s basically a fuck-or-die situation, where Guillermo needs to Not Be a Virgin ASAP, and she is very into it, but also very shocked and doesn’t explicitly verbally consent, so be aware of that.</p><p>So much gratitude to everyone on the discord for enabling me on this pursuit and supporting me in my self-indulgent desire for wlw Nandermo content &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Guillermo is frozen in the cracked-open doorway, watching Jeremy fuck Constantine while declaring that this was an awesome party, as if that were a very normal and appropriate thing to say casually to your childhood best friend during this scenario.</p><p>In the doorway on the other side of the room, Nadja stands in front of a crowd of immensely disappointed vampires. A chorus of groans, ranging from disgusted to duly annoyed, echoes from the corridor.</p><p>One of the vampires just behind Nadja hesitates, though; a contemplative look falling over his face. He steps gingerly into the room- where the rhythmic smacking of skin on skin is still very audible- and inhales long and deep through his nose. His eyes dart, then, to where Guillermo stands in the adjacent doorway like a hawk locking its attention on a field mouse.</p><p>"The familiar!" He proclaims loudly, pointing. "She's a virgin!"</p><p>Nadja shoved aside, a flood of vampires begins to pour into the room, rushing past the couch where Jeremy is actively and loudly losing his virginity, headed straight for Guillermo. She commands her muscles to slam the door behind her and flee, but her legs have seemingly forgotten how to work. The moment before she either comes to her senses and runs or is devoured by a rabid pack of vampires, a strong grip wraps around her upper arm to drag her away. She's vaguely aware of the door being flung shut behind her as she's pulled hurriedly down the hallway. No sooner does she process that her Master has come to her rescue than the old wooden door holding back their ravenous pursuers is kicked down with a splintering crash.</p><p>"Fucking <em>door</em>," Nandor growls, and yanks Guillermo into the nearest room.</p><p>She stumbles into the cold darkness of the small space, which she recognizes as the excess storage room. She would come in here, from time to time, when her curiosity got the best of her, just to nosily poke around at the ancient weapons, garments, paintings, and other antique items that had been deemed unworthy of decorating the vampires’ crypts or main halls, but not useless enough to discard.</p><p>The room remains dark after Nandor has locked the door and turned back to her familiar. There's a single lightbulb in this room, screwed into a dusty fixture on the ceiling with a beaded string dangling from it. Guillermo moves to pull the string and illuminate the room, but Nandor instantly lunges at her and rips her arm away from the switch.</p><p>"None of that lighty-bulb for your useless human eyes," she whispers harshly. "It will alert them to our presence in here."</p><p>Guillermo gulps and nods wearily. Nandor's eyes pierce deep through Guillermo's- their faces just inches apart- searching for compliance with the command. Satisfied, she releases her crushing grip on Guillermo's arm.</p><p>"What are we going to do?" Guillermo whispers through her panicked breaths. "They’ll break in here before long."</p><p>The door to the storage room is newer and much stronger than most in the old house, complete with a deadbolt and a key lock that Guillermo convinced them to invest in to safeguard their material riches. But still, she’s pretty confident a couple dozen ravenous vampires would manage to get past it eventually.</p><p>Nandor scans the room. She looks first to the small window high on the wall to her right, the moonlight streaming through its bars the only thing cutting through the darkness. She could easily flitter out in bat form, but it's far too small for any human to squeeze through. Instead, she makes for an old trunk on the ground against the wall behind her, heaving the heavy lid open- hissing at the rusted hinges creaking loudly in protest- and withdrawing from its depths a simple sabre.</p><p>Guillermo looks on, awestruck by the vision of her Master wielding a blade that, though it probably hasn’t been polished in centuries, catches the pale moonlight and glistens alongside the gold-threaded embroidery on Nandor’s cape and her lustrous black hair.</p><p>Nandor wastes no time in securing the sword through a loop in her belt and turning back to frantically search the room for something else. Guillermo is unsure what she's looking for now, and it crosses her mind that she should offer her assistance, but she can't form the words in her throat before Nandor is mutilating a wooden chair piled haphazardly atop various other neglected pieces of furniture in the corner. She snaps its leg off with ease, then returns to Guillermo to offer her the smooth, carved foot of the chair; the splintered sharpness of the makeshift stake pointed at Nandor's very own undead heart. Gingerly, taken aback by the sheer trust of the act, she accepts the weapon, unintentionally brushing cold fingers with her own trembling ones as she does.</p><p>"We're not really going to kill all those vampires?" Guillermo questions nervously. "There's, like, dozens of them."</p><p>"Not if we don't have to," Nandor replies.</p><p>She's pushing Guillermo backwards towards a small red couch that was abandoned to the storage room and forgotten about years ago, and Guillermo is stepping complacently with her direction. Her head is murky with fear and adrenaline; she hasn't even had time to question why she's being led that way or project where this might be going before she's pressed down by firm hands on her shoulders to sit on the edge of the couch.</p><p>"They wouldn't be so eager to eat you if you weren't a virgin," Nandor remarks while shrugging off her cape and draping it over the arm of the couch, leaving her in a flowing white tunic that shows off cleavage framed by ruffles, tucked into tight leather pants. She rolls her sleeves up and bares her pale, toned forearms. She pauses, as if expecting an answer.</p><p>Guillermo's heart only begins to pound faster, an embarrassed blush creeping into her cheeks.</p><p>"Very inconvenient," Nandor scolds, "You should've taken care of this some time ago."</p><p>"I- I'm sorry-" Guillermo begins to stammer some kind of apology or justification, completely thrown off by the criticism.</p><p>"Undress yourself," Nandor demands.</p><p>The command is a blazing midday sun that burns away the dense fog still shrouding Guillermo's mind, snapping her back into reality.</p><p>"What?!" She exclaims, far louder than their voices had been previously kept to avoid drawing attention.</p><p>Nandor shushes Guillermo, pressing her into the couch as she thrusts a hand over her mouth.</p><p>"Shut. Up," she scowls under her breath. "Do you really want to be eaten alive right now?"</p><p>Guillermo shakes her head feverishly.</p><p>Nandor is towering even closer over her now, and Guillermo has sunk impossibly deep into the cushion. Her right hand is still clenching the makeshift wooden stake, the jagged tip still facing Nandor, while Nandor's sword has been tucked through her belt and seemingly forgotten, dangling loosely.</p><p>"I said," she continues sternly, pulling her hand away from Guillermo’s mouth, "take off your pants. Now."</p><p>Guillermo's breath hitches. Her instinct is to freeze in place, but her master's infinitely dark eyes seem to inject compliance into her, prodding her along.</p><p>She has to unfurl her white-knuckled grip on the stake to unbutton her fly. Her sweaty palm peels stubbornly away from the wood, as if begging her not to let go. Shakily, she starts to wriggle her pants down her hips.</p><p>"Quickly," Nandor snarls, baring a hint of fangs. Cold fingers find the waistband of Guillermo's underwear- she tries not to gasp too loudly at the sudden contact- and pull, rapidly removing all the clothing from her lower half in one smooth motion (including her shoes and socks, which she's not entirely sure how Nandor removed so quickly without breaking her ankles).</p><p>Suddenly exposed to the frigid air, Guillermo instinctively presses her thighs together as Nandor sinks to her knees in front of her.</p><p>"Will this even work, Master?" She tries to stall whatever is about to happen.</p><p>It's not that she doesn't want it. This kind of attention from her Master has been the stuff of her bedtime fantasies for a decade now. But it's so <em>sudden</em>, she isn't prepared. She had extinguished her last spark of hope for this ever happening years ago, so it's been Lord-knows-how-long since she's shaved her legs or trimmed her bush or thought about how her undergarments would look to someone else... and she hasn’t really let herself worry about- nevermind let anyone else <em>see</em>- the physique she hides under layers of unassuming thrift store sweaters since some awkward fumbling with Maria from theater in the props room in 10<sup>th</sup> grade.</p><p>So, needless to say, she’s self-conscious. And nervous. Very, very, dreadfully, terribly, nervous.</p><p>”Doesn’t it have to be, like... a man or something? To take- to make me not be a virgin?"</p><p>"Of course not," Nandor retorts as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "You must simply be brought to orgasm by another for your blood to be made…” she inhales sharply, “impure."</p><p>Guillermo's face burns up at this implication: the end goal here was to make her <em>come</em>, not just shove something up her vagina or be seen and briefly touched by someone else.</p><p>There are still several sets of footsteps echoing through the hallway, searching. A door not far from them is slammed in frustration.</p><p>"Now then," Nandor continues, pulling Guillermo's legs apart by the knees. "We have only minutes."</p><p>"I'm sorry, Master," Guillermo pours forth her apprehension in the split second she has before Nandor ducks her head and presses into her, "but I don't think I can come in just a few minut- <em>ohhhhh fuck pleasekeepdoingthat</em>-"</p><p>The tongue that snakes its way hurriedly inside Guillermo is definitely inhumanly long (add that to the list of seemingly useless powers her Master possesses) and immediately finds a sensitive bundle of nerves in the frontward wall deep within her that she didn't even know was there. Nandor strokes her tongue relentlessly against that spot, igniting a white-hot fire inside Guillermo with every movement, the stimulation made further pronounced by the unnatural coolness of the vampire's tongue.</p><p>"-please don't stop, please don't fucking stop, I-" Nandor has to reach up and clamp her hand back over Guillermo's mouth to hold back the outpouring of pleas and curses.</p><p>After just a few short moments of making Guillermo squirm and buck her hips up to meet Nandor’s mouth, silently begging for more, she withdraws her tongue, simultaneously pulling her hand away from Guillermo's mouth. Guillermo has to instantly replace it with her own hand to stifle a desperate cry. Thank fucking Christ, Nandor uses the hand that was covering Guillermo's mouth to replace the emptiness her tongue left with two slender fingers- which slide effortlessly into Guillermo's now thoroughly slick cunt.</p><p>As Nandor's fingers resume rubbing against the nerves deep within, her tongue finds Guillermo's clit and begins tracing circles, slow and silky smooth with her wetness, around the hardened nub of it.</p><p>Guillermo whimpers into her palm as her clit is lavished by her Master’s skilled mouth, licking gradually harder and faster, in synchrony with her fingers pumping in and out. Her tongue retracts for a brief moment, only for her lips to wrap around the whole of Guillermo’s clit and suck; working her way back in with just the tip of her tongue and pressing pointedly underneath the hood. Guillermo nearly screams with pleasure, biting down on the meat of her palm to hold it back. <em>So this is how spontaneous human combustion occurs</em>, she muses.</p><p>Nandor returns to circling her clit with her tongue, the circles smaller and more rapid now, and she brushes slightly under the hood with each round, working Guillermo up towards her edge already.</p><p>Tears of overwhelming sensation and emotion begin to roll hot down Guillermo’s cheeks and seep past her hand, settling their saltiness on her lips and tongue. Her free hand claws frantically at various spots on the couch, grasping at the cushioning, desperate for some tether to reality. The coarse and unfamiliar fabric not doing anything to help ground her, she reaches out, considering digging her fingers into the soft waves of Nandor’s midnight-black hair, which she’s spent so many quiet moments brushing out and braiding and working exquisitely scented oils into. She decides against it, though- terrified of accidentally pulling her Master's hair. But miraculously, as if reading Guillermo's mind, Nandor's left hand- which had been planted stagnant on Guillermo's knee to hold her legs open- migrates up to her thigh, squeezing gently at the softness there. Before she has time to think any better of it, Guillermo's searching hand is meeting her Master's atop her leg. For a millisecond, her blood freezes and she goes rigid, thinking perhaps she should rapidly pull her hand away and claim it was reflexive; just a mistake- but then Nandor's fingers are decidedly intertwining with hers and although the angle is a bit awkward they're <em>literally holding hands</em> and the contact is somehow both profoundly reassuring and absolutely electrifying, almost as exhilarating as being unexpectedly fucked by her Master on a raggedy old couch in the storage room.</p><p>The heat and pressure are building in Guillermo's core. Nandor picks up the pace and intensity of her tongue's circles around Guillermo's clit, while rhythmically slipping her fingers in and out, curling them in just slightly with every thrust to rouse Guillermo's most sensitive nerves. Her cunt, soaked and relaxing around Nandor's fingers, is just beginning to ache for more when a third digit is added suddenly with the next inward thrust. Guillermo presses her palm, wet and salty with sweat and tears, forcefully against her mouth to muffle her cries as she rapidly nears the edge. Nandor squeezes her hand and begins to stroke the back of it reassuringly with her thumb, all the while pushing her three fingers deep inside, through Guillermo’s tightness around them. She alternates circling Guillermo’s clit and flicking at it with the tip of her tongue, which earns her a desperate thrust of Guillermo’s hips every time.</p><p>Guillermo’s growing dizzy with pleasure; teetering on the edge of what she’s sure is going to be a truly maddening orgasm. She knows she sounds like an alley cat stuck in a dumpster the way she’s moaning and yelling into her hand, but she can’t make herself stop.</p><p>Suddenly, frantic banging starts up just outside the door. She falls quiet and tightens her already crushing hold on Nandor’s hand, but she’s too close to stop her desperate shaking and writhing.</p><p>Nandor, sensing that her human is close, and hearing the banging on the door, curls her lips into a devious smirk against Guillermo’s folds as she lets her prideful nature win.</p><p>Guillermo groans in protest as Nandor lifts her head to speak, but the way she affectionately growls, “Yes, my Guillermo,” almost makes up for it.</p><p>“Yes, cry out now,” she coaxes, her voice dark and low in her throat, vibrating alluringly against Guillermo’s sensitive inner thigh. “Let them all know what I’ve <em>done</em> to you.”</p><p>That, and Nandor’s tongue resuming its dutiful work on her clit, is all the encouragement Guillermo needs to ditch the hand holding back her torrent of loud, pleasured moans.</p><p>The pounding and thumping outside are most definitely concentrated on their door now.</p><p>Nandor’s fingers thrust even deeper into Guillermo, who spreads even further to welcome the penetration, and begins to yell, “Yes, Master, please- ah!-“ it’s by far the filthiest thing Guillermo has ever said- much less screamed- aloud, but the feeling of Nandor undoubtably grinning with pride and bemusement against her cunt persuades her to carry on- “fuck yes, harder, Master-“ she positively screams when her Master very much does push harder, adding a fourth finger without compromising how far she thrusts them, then curls them in so deep and so hard, at the same time lapping up the fresh wave of slickness that pours forth and using it to press her tongue smoothly into Guillermo’s clit, circling the hardness with dizzying speed and pointed pressure.</p><p>“Fuck!” Guillermo cries out as she begins her climax. “Yes, ah! Fuck me, Mast- I, I’m gonna-”</p><p>Her legs continue to shake and the heat in her abdomen continues to grow, her orgasm showing no sign of reaching its height yet, when the harsh clang of metal breaking sounds from outside. As the door is kicked in with a few final bangs and several figures emerge in her peripheral, Guillermo allows herself to ignore them and be carried by the tremendous waves of ecstasy overtaking her. Their groans of disappointment are faded pitifully into the background as Guillermo yells, “Please don’t stop, please Master, fuck me, please! <em>Take me</em>!”</p><p>Nandor thankfully does not let up while Guillermo rides out the longest and hardest orgasm of her life, repeatedly seizing up, bucking her hips and lifting her ass slightly off the couch; holding still for a moment before gasping desperately and pushing back down into Nandor’s mouth.</p><p>Time is frozen around her as she climbs endlessly higher, but when she finally does come down- one final curl of Nandor’s fingers and swipe of her tongue inducing a monumental explosion of pleasure and releasing all the pressure coiled up in her gut- she’s left suddenly empty and deserted as Nandor removes herself completely from her familiar to face the vampires in the doorway.</p><p>Some of them look on in dismay, others in plain boredom and annoyance, and a few seemingly in lust, as Nandor reaches threateningly for the hilt of her sword and proclaims, “See what happens when you try to destroy the property of Nandor the Relentless!”</p><p><em>‘Destroy the property of’</em>... Guillermo has to remind herself that this whole ordeal was nothing if not comparable to slapping an insurance policy on an expensive painting; at best, maybe a display of possession and ownership over her. She’s paralyzed in her daze of heartache and physical overstimulation, barely hearing Nandor scream at the disgruntled orgy guests to begone or taste her sword.</p><p>She wishes she had found the sense to at least pull up her pants while Nandor was making her threats, but when the vampire’s already shut the door and returned to kneeling between Guillermo’s still-spread legs, all she can do is pray Nandor thinks the freshly-fallen tears are just from the overwhelming orgasm.</p><p>Guillermo isn’t sure what she’s expecting, but she’s definitely surprised when Nandor places her hands so tenderly over her knees and nuzzles her smooth, cool cheek against her inner thigh. Guillermo shudders at the contact, undeniably still hot and worked up. Nandor seems to smile against her skin, then presses a kiss there and coos, “You did so well, <em>my Guillermo</em>.”</p><p>Guillermo can’t help but relish in the rare praise and smile down at Nandor, who’s buried her face indulgently back into the soft warmth of her thigh and is humming contently. Guillermo is unsure how to respond, if she should touch her somehow or say something, so she remains still and quiet. Obviously she should’ve done something, because after a moment Nandor looks up at her, head tilted with concern and confusion like a goddamn puppy. It takes every ounce of strength she has to not start sobbing out of the heartache and shock and confusion and <em>love</em> she's feeling right then and there. Nandor must sense her distress somehow, because she gingerly removes herself from between Guillermo’s legs and helps her put her underwear back on before sitting on the couch next to her.</p><p>Hesitantly, as if Guillermo were an eggshell she might accidentally crush with her words, she asks, “Guillermo, are you alright?”</p><p>Guillermo nods decisively, trying to pull both herself and her Master back into their normal reality.</p><p>“Yes, Master,” she says confidently. “Sorry, just a little overwhelmed.”</p><p>Nandor gives a short nod of understanding, but doesn’t look convinced. After a moment of silence, looking like she’s going to war with herself in her mind, she leans back against the arm of the couch and beckons, “Come here.”</p><p>Guillermo stares, mouth agape, at her Master lying back invitingly, one leg extended across the couch and the other dangling off it; arms outstretched. Nandor looks assuredly through Guillermo’s hesitancy, and guides her by the shoulders to scoot back and lie against her. She’s tense and rigid with uncertainty, but quickly relaxes into her Master’s touch when she wraps her arms around her, one just above and one just below her chest, and holds her close. She sighs with content as she leans into Nandor, and presses her face into her tunic just above the breast to breathe in her comforting scent. Guillermo relaxes further when Nandor makes no move to reject this closeness, in fact, she seems to encourage it by bringing one hand up to cradle Guillermo’s head and stroke gently through her messy curls.</p><p>Guillermo tries to tell herself that she shouldn’t bask too heavily in this affection. The way Nandor is so carefully petting her hair with one hand and so tenderly caressing her neck and collarbone with the other could almost be mistaken for genuine adoration or love, but she reminds herself that Nandor just referred to her as her <em>property</em>, that she only held and squeezed her hand to get her to shut up, that she only made her shake and scream like that so she wouldn’t have to find another familiar to replace her (once, when Nandor caught her as she fell off a ladder trying to clean a very high shelf, she was scolded:<em> “It is so hard to find a decent familiar these days! Everyone is all ‘ah, what does it pay, what are the benefits, do I get the medic-cares, blah blah blah.’ So you see, it would be very inconvenient to have to replace you, Guillermo! Please do not do the falling and dying again!”</em>).</p><p>So, she really shouldn’t be savoring her Master’s touch like this. She really shouldn’t be leaning into her subtly spiced aroma, which reminds her of the cinnamon sticks and oranges her mother would slice fresh to make Sangria, inhaling the scent of safety and home and love on this immortal creature of the night, to whom she was just a blip (and in emergencies, a snack). She really shouldn’t be letting her heart swell with warmth as Nandor’s cool skin presses soothingly against hers. She really shouldn’t be hesitantly reaching up to grasp at the soft layers of muslin over Nandor’s chest and feeling her heart skip a beat when Nandor removes the hand from Guillermo’s hair to hold the human’s soundly against her chest. She really shouldn’t allow herself this.</p><p>But it can’t hurt to lean in a little closer and be held a little longer, right? </p><p>Just this once.</p><p>Right?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nandor puts herself in horny jail.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Nearly 5 months later... we're back!!!<br/>Huge thanks to HeartlessMemo for prodding me to actually finish this chapter. Also to the whole Femdermo group for constant inspiration and encouragement. You are all superb and I am so grateful for this fandom!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nandor is startled out of her daze by a soft rapping on the door. She realizes, then, that since retreating to her crypt and perching herself at the vanity probably hours ago, she hadn’t moved a muscle, not even to shelve the sword dangling from her hip.</p><p>“Master?” Guillermo’s voice calls softly from behind the door. “It’s almost sunrise. Do you want me to get you ready for coffin?”</p><p>“Yes,” Nandor replies quickly, feigning normalcy. “You may enter!”</p><p>Through her lack of reflection in the mirror, she watches Guillermo push the door open, entering the room with Nandor’s cape from the evening draped over her arm. She avoids looking in Nandor’s direction as she goes to stow the garment in the wardrobe. </p><p>She’s doing a commendable job, really. Hanging the cape up neatly, retrieving Nandor’s nightclothes from their drawer, and approaching her, ready to help her dress for slumber. Even her breathing is relatively steady as she sets the folded clothing on the vanity’s surface. Nandor is still staring vacantly into the mirror, and Guillermo is looking to the left of her own reflection, in the space where Nandor would appear if she could. She would almost be convinced that her familiar was perfectly calm and collected if not for the rapid thumping of her heart against her ribcage, pulsing distractingly right next to Nandor's ear. </p><p>Nandor stands and faces Guillermo, encouraging her to carry on their nightly routine as usual. With only slightly-trembling hands, Guillermo begins to untie the strings lacing Nandor’s blouse together over her chest. Her fingertips brush lightly against the tops of Nandor’s breasts, as they often do (Nandor knows she tries not to touch her more than necessary, but it’s nearly impossible). Only this time, Nandor’s nerves are electrified by every whisper of contact with Guillermo’s skin. <br/><em>Has she been shuffling around on the rugs and collecting the staticky-shocks again?</em> She will have to give her a talking-to about this…</p><p>“I’m sorry the orgy turned out so poorly, Master,” Guillermo says, now circling behind her to lift the shirt off over her head. With all that happened, she’d practically forgotten that they’d hosted an orgy more disappointing than fucking <em>Mike’s</em>.</p><p>“It is alright,” Nandor grunts as the shirt is pulled over her head, “I pretty much ended up doing what I do at most orgies anyway.”</p><p>Guillermo snorts, stifling a laugh. Then she swallows it back and freezes, thinking she’s responded inappropriately. But the glorious sound of Guillermo’s laughter has already burrowed itself in Nandor’s heart, and she's chuckling in return. <em>It was a very funny comment, after all</em>, she thinks.</p><p>Nandor turns around. Her chest is bare, and no matter how many times this exact scenario has transpired, Guillermo always flushes and averts her eyes- though her embarrassment is far more pronounced tonight than it has been in years. It’s adorable. </p><p>“I heard a lot of bat squeaking coming from Nadja and Laszlo’s crypt,” Guillermo remarks, looking very intently at the tapestry-draped ceiling while Nandor wiggles out of her pants. “Are they going to be alright?” </p><p>“Oh, yes,” Nandor assures, “I peeked in earlier. Save yourself from the image, Guillermo, I think they are very alright.” </p><p>“Oh,” Guillermo cringes. </p><p>Nandor now stands before Guillermo in only her underwear, which is not a pair of the loose cotton bloomers she became accustomed to sometime in the 19th century, but rather, a whole getup of fancy modern human-lady underwears that Nadja accompanied her to buy (and had to explain how to put on) just for the orgy. It is a shame she didn’t get to show off the set: a scandalously revealing (and only a little bit uncomfortable) black thong with a garter belt and straps that attached to sheer black stockings, all with ornate lace embroidery trims and blood-red accents.<br/>The way Guillermo’s heart flutters while her cheeks grow fiercely hot and bright crimson more than makes up for it. </p><p>“What do you think?” Nandor asks cheekily, aiming to elicit even more of this deliciously mortified reaction from her familiar. “Nadja took me to the vault of a ‘<em>Victoria’s</em>’ most closely guarded secrets to obtain it.”</p><p>Much to Nandor’s amusement, Guillermo flushes an even deeper shade of red and stammers out, “Wh- what do I think? It’s- it’s very...” Guillermo gets hung up on finding the right word, and Nandor has to bite her cheek to stop herself from grinning, secretly hoping for Guillermo to say something along the lines of ‘sexy’ or ‘ravishing’. </p><p>“...nice. It’s very nice, Master.” </p><p>Nandor tries not to let her face fall too visibly. Guillermo hands her the clean sleeping clothes and practically trips over herself in her haste to turn around while Nandor changes. </p><p>She'd been scheming to have Guillermo help her remove the sexy underwears- they were very complicated, after all, with their tiny little ties at the top of the stockings- but after bending over to start fussing with the ribbons, she glances up at her familiar’s reflection in the mirror, and a nagging doubt creeps in. Guillermo’s eyes are squeezed shut and her face, tilted up towards the ceiling, is contorted in apparent distress. Her heart is still racing and her skin is still flushed, but her breath seems to be held. </p><p>Nandor’s heart sinks to her stomach. She thought her familiar was not-all-that-secretly thrilled when Nandor required her attention in more intimate scenarios. When she occasionally has Guillermo bathe her, the little human’s fingers tremble and her palms sweat, and her gaze inevitably wanders and lingers on Nandor's naked body. Not long ago, while hunting at a park with Guillermo accompanying her, she drank a drunk man without realizing he was drunk until it was too late, and she leaned against Guillermo the entire way home, then continued to cling to her, resting her hands on warm, soft skin wherever she could as the human struggled to dress her master for coffin. When she finally got her settled in, Nandor could smell the arousal on her sweet Guillermo, sharp and exhilarating. </p><p>Now, she seems beyond flustered. She seems... terrified.</p><p>Nandor finishes changing herself as quickly as possible, then goes to shove the garment deep in the back of her wardrobe. When she turns back, Guillermo has opened her eyes and her mouth is agape as if to say something. Thankfully, she decides against it.</p><p>Nandor had already fantasized about the prospect of Guillermo cleaning the lingerie. <em>'Hand-washings only, Guillermo,'</em> she would say, and Guillermo's face would redden so prettily as she took the piece from Nandor's hands, which would be deliberately arranged so that Guillermo could not miss the evidence of her immense arousal from earlier in the night. But the sudden bout of uncertainty compels her to avoid that scenario now, by any means necessary. She would just have to find the time and privacy to wash it herself. </p><p>"Would you like me brush your hair now?" Guillermo asks. </p><p>Nandor nods, exhaling some of the tension constricting her lungs. Guillermo was offering this; maybe she wasn't so utterly horrified after all. </p><p> </p><p>They settle into their usual position, both straddling the little bench in front of the vanity, Guillermo behind her with all the combs and oils and mists lined up neatly on the wooden surface next to them. Nandor cherishes this nightly routine; the normalcy and comfort of it, the opportunity to feel the warmth of her Guillermo so close to her, to steal glances in the mirror and watch her familiar's fingers work diligently through invisible hair, her face concentrated but tranquil. <br/>She tries to find peace in the regularity of it tonight; assurance that Guillermo is fine, their (very professional) relationship is fine, and everything is good and fine and totally normal. </p><p>Unfortunately, she shivers at the first light tug of Guillermo's hands in her hair to undo her half-bun, which is very much not normal. </p><p>Guillermo doesn't seem to notice, or at least, she doesn't comment. Nandor silently curses her nerves and muscles and their silly reflexes, and commands them to keep still as Guillermo carries on. They seem to obey her will, and soon, she is able to relax into the comfortable silence. She relishes in the familiar sensations of Guillermo's hands running over her waves, the gentlest of tugs as deft fingers untangle any knots, and the occasional warm touch of a soft fingertip brushing her scalp. She breathes a sigh of contentment and lets her eyelids flutter shut.</p><p>In the dark of her mind, she fixates on the radiating heat of Guillermo's thighs, so incredibly close to her own. Unbidden, fantasies of the human's touch begin to sneak in. They often have, but never this vivid. She can picture clearly, now, the feeling of Guillermo's hand in her own, so warm and soft, but calloused on the palm from so many years of hard labor. She imagines what those thick arms might feel like if they wrapped around her from behind, what those hands would feel like caressing her stomach, cupping her breasts. Nandor's nightshirt is so thin, Guillermo's human warmth would bleed straight through to her cold skin. Pudgy fingers could fondle and pinch her nipples for mere seconds before they grew fully stiff under light fabric. Maybe she would grab Guillermo's wrist and slip her arm up under her shirt so that she might feel her warmth directly against her bare skin; feel her fingers wrap around her tit and squeeze. Or maybe she would move Guillermo's hand down further. The heat of her living flesh and pulsing veins would feel so <em>good</em> on her bare inner thigh. If she placed Guillermo's hand right between her legs- or better yet, if it migrated there of its own accord- one press, one stroke of a finger through her folds, even through the fabric there... <em>fuck</em>, it would have her instantly soaked through. She imagines Guillermo behind her, suddenly scooting forward just a bit. Every part of her back would be pressed firmly against Guillermo's cushioned frontside; she could lean all her weight into Guillermo's body, let her head fall back onto her shoulder, exposing her neck to be kissed and sucked at by hot, wet lips. Guillermo's strong inner thighs would squeeze around her ass, holding her in place as she--</p><p>Guillermo is working to gently untangle a knot in her hair, and in the process, brushes her knuckles soundly against the back of her neck. In a millisecond, her hand flinches away from the touch with such urgency that Nandor's scalp is abruptly tugged by the hair she's holding. </p><p>"Oh!" Guillermo rushes to apologize, "sorry, Master."</p><p>The tug didn't hurt at all, yet Nandor's chest is suddenly tightening and her throat is closing up. It's as if she's gasping for air but there's not enough in the whole room to fill her lungs. </p><p><em>Guilt</em>, she realizes as she hastily shoves away fantasies of her familiar's touch, and finds herself wishing she'd never thought them up in the first place. </p><p>"Guillermo..." she begins. <em>'What is this feeling I am feeling,'</em> she's tempted to say, <em>'and how do I make it go away?!'</em> But she already knows. </p><p>"I am sorry." Guillermo's hands freeze where they entangle in her hair. Nandor swallows dryly, beyond grateful she is not facing Guillermo, and continues, "I am sorry for... for how things turned out this evening. I could have probably gotten rid of all those vampires that were trying to eat you in another way, but I-" '<em>I wanted to taste you. I wanted to fuck you. I wanted to claim you,'</em> her brain supplies. "-I should not have- I was not meaning to be forcing you. I am sorry."</p><p>Nandor hangs her head in conclusion, anxiously awaiting Guillermo's reaction. </p><p>"Master, no," she responds instantly, almost frantically, "no, you- you don't have to apologize. I- uh, I..." Guillermo stammers and falters. Gingerly, Nandor swings one leg over the bench so she can turn to face her. No longer occupied with Nandor's hair, she's wringing her hands and adamantly avoiding looking up. Her face flushes and her jaw clenches and unclenches as she searches for the words. </p><p>"Thank you," she says, finally meeting Nandor's gaze. "You saved me."</p><p>She's trapped in Guillermo's eyes, huge and dark and staring nervously- <em>expectantly?</em>- into her own.</p><p>The possibilities race through Nandor's mind. <em>'Thank you for the saving of you or for the orgasm?'</em> she could joke. Perhaps she'd be rewarded with the ethereal sound of Guillermo's laugh. Or perhaps Guillermo would be too mortified to ever look at her again. <em>'You are welcome, Guillermo,'</em> she could say in a very professional and appropriate and not at all nervous or shaky voice. Or... or she could whisper seductively, <em>'and I could do it again.'</em>  <em>No</em>, she scolds herself, <em>that doesn't even make sense! </em></p><p>Guillermo is starting to look panicky again, pursing her lips and flicking her eyes away. </p><p>She could lean in, lightning-quick, and capture those lips with her own. Finally, the last lingering whispers of uncertainty in how she felt would be kissed away; any remaining shred of doubt extinguished by the tender strokes of their tongues against each other. Finally, the sweetness of Guillermo's mouth and the softness of her lips would become known to her. Finally, her perpetual coldness could be remedied for longer, and by something far more beautiful, than the drinking of a victim's blood. </p><p>She's reminded suddenly of Guillermo, just moments ago, flinching away from an accidental touch, and her mind projects a new possibility: her Guillermo pulling violently away from her kiss, one final look of terror and hurt and betrayal, and an empty little room in a big silent house devoid of a steady human heartbeat. </p><p>
  <em>No, please...</em>
</p><p>"Yes, very good!" Nandor concludes abruptly while jumping to her feet. "It is time for coffin now, far too close to sunrise!" Before Guillermo can even catch up with the shift in directive and offer a hand, Nandor has climbed into her coffin and assumed her deathlike sleeping position. She hears Guillermo approaching, but closes her eyes to steadfastly avoid her familiar's dumbfounded, blushing, confused, beautiful, warm, gorgeous, stupid face. </p><p>"Uhm- okay... goodnight then, master," Guillermo says warily as she closes the coffin lid. </p><p>"Goodnight, Guillermo," Nandor responds with maximum confidence and steadiness. </p><p>It takes Guillermo far less time than usual to sort everything away, blow out all the candles, and leave the crypt.<br/>Nandor is torn on whether to be relieved or devastated by this.</p><p>In the dark of her coffin, Guillermo's heartbeat muffled to a quiet metronome ticking away in a distant room, Nandor recalls the feeling of holding Guillermo's flushed and panting body against her own; licks her lips and tries to savor the taste of her while the memory is still new. She strokes the back of her own hand with her thumb, imagining it as Guillermo's, and she smiles fondly. Clinging to these precious shards of memory, Nandor falls asleep weighing the potential future pleasures against the certain future heartbreak.</p>
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